The Song of the Universe
Once built, all great things must fall.
The greatest buildings on earth will crumble, the tallest trees shall one day be felled, by hand of man or hand of God, the greatest of the great rivers, one day,
We are all just humble renters here.
We sprall out at a tempo that keeps us ever ahead of gravity,
But just by paces, Just by steps... Now.
And it is a constant of flux, The order of things
Circles circle circles.
We obey the laws of nature, laws of existence itself
It is our nature, and there is no choice
But, there is so much happening here we cannot see
the rumble and the rhythm
Secret roads, secret rivers…
Sometimes we are told secrets by dreamlight
Sometimes we are visited and sometimes we pray
for a few seconds
we hit one of the unsmooth wrinkles
a feedback loop of time
emits time. Emits time. Emits time.
It is a liquid Magic.
The moon is coaxing our waters.
Our waters are hungry for the kiss of the moon.
Somewhere, deep in the middle of it all
there is a magnetic storm that has been
Going for billions of years the likes of which can only be imagined
keeping us rotating, keeping us balanced
it is scientifically unexplainable-
and yet, it runs the planet
we are on the surface calm,
absorbing the very energy that runs the engines in our cells
the mother earth burns for us and nurtures us with the other magic, life.
There is a song
The human nature
Emanating away Across the void
A life song of energy
Joining the chorus, we play our part mostly in tune
With the everything
The beating drums of the quantum mechanics
The tremedous heartbeats of the suns making love,
Creating suns of suns of suns.
Time. Gravity. Electromagnetic force. Nuclear blueprints.
We carry in our cells the frequencies, the secrets of eternity...
Mirrors. Seeds. Skies. Planets. Words. Love.
It never sleeps.
It is so vast that the greatest minds can not even pretend to imagine...
Yet we all understand laughter.
We all understand pain.
We all understand truth.
We all understand the smile lines upon the face of the mother, the face of the wife.
Rolling dough in the kitchen, she fights her own battle with time
As only a creator can understand...
One with the tremendous power to give life from her life-
It is called intuition.
It is a gift, no less than magic, It is molecular.
And true .
Once upon a time...
And we spend our lives working against the relentless
Steel and marble mechanics
The marching machines of forward
The armies of ever
Moving away at the farthest reaches,
too fast, too vast, too powerful to see...
Back at the Ranch,
Back on the Tiny Blue Orb we call
Man and Woman create life-
new heartbeats, new faces, new eyes, and new voices and rhythms
New joys and new futures,
each one a promise that with us, life will not end,
our blood will continue to run, into the approaching when
a promise of the fight inside us,
a promise to offer our fragile bodies,
and hopes and dreams against the seas of infinity,
where all promises are kept, and all promises are broken,
where all our lives will amount to the same net sum,
where our worth in the void is incalculable,
and infinite, and whole,
a single note humming on forever, and ever, and ever.
The song of infinity…
A promise kept, where and when there shall no longer be pain.
Or hunger. Or lies. Or needs.
We bring forth our resource, our race, all that we can do
We are adding to the army that fights against the onward press of time, the emperor, and thief, the great deconstructor.
We paint our houses And seal our windows against the weather,
$ave up our dollar$, bury our bones, and clean our feathers
We check off days, on our calenderns, to measure- What?
What is our hope?
Our life is the battle against time,
Against weathering and change
Attempting to maintain order
against the nature of nature which is chaos-
the great winding down and coming apart
until there is no potential and all is uniform,
as it was-